


pickin' up things we shouldn't read

by GreyishBlue



Series: thoughts can bloom [2]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, College Student! Steve, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Part 2 where the smut happens, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sprinkled in amongst the dicks, Steve Rogers is The Unicorn, Strip Tease, Switch Clint Barton, Tattooed! Clint, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Bucky Barnes, Very stupid underwear, safe sex, tattoo artist! Bucky, there's some fluff too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyishBlue/pseuds/GreyishBlue
Summary: Home for Clint and Bucky is another surprisingly short walk from the bar. The nerves that jangled through Steve dissipate on the way in the midst of a truly awful pun contest and a series of escalating claims of strength that result in Clint slinging Steve over his shoulder and carrying him part of the way.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: thoughts can bloom [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653574
Comments: 29
Kudos: 146
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo





	pickin' up things we shouldn't read

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely FadedSepia
> 
> Fills my Winterhawk Bingo Square: Height Difference
> 
> Be gentle, this is a first for me. Also big thanks to the WHB and BDB servers for holding my hand for much of my anxiety over this.

Home for Clint and Bucky is another surprisingly short walk from the bar. The nerves that jangled through Steve dissipate on the way in the midst of a truly awful pun contest and a series of escalating claims of strength that result in Clint slinging Steve over his shoulder and carrying him part of the way. He’s breathless when Clint sets him down against a wall, then crowds against him to steal kisses they’re both grinning into. Bucky makes an appreciative noise, nearly fumbling the keys getting their front door open. 

Bucky’s fingers close around Steve’s wrist, all warm and comforting, and he guides them through the apartment, into the bedroom that Bucky and Clint share. Before Steve can really look around at the decor, Bucky is stalking through the room to settle himself on a low bench at the end of the bed. His legs sprawl apart and a predatory little smile crosses his lips. 

“Come kneel here for me, Stevie?” Bucky gestures down casually with one hand, the other trailing across the line of a thigh.   
  
Steve can’t remember if he’s ever been graceful in his life, and he nearly trips on the way to do as he’s told. Clint steadies him with a strong hand on his shoulder and makes a soothing noise, like he knows exactly how Bucky is making Steve feel at the moment. Steve realizes he probably does. 

Steve starts to kneel, but Bucky’s hands - gentle on his waist - stop him. Bucky turns him easily, guiding him to face away and sink down so Bucky that is behind him. Steve turns to look over his shoulder and realizes he has to tilt up to look at Bucky in this position. That’s twice tonight he’s felt off-kilter height-wise, and Bucky grins at the little furrow in his brow. 

Bucky kisses the pout from Steve’s lips and taps his jaw to make him face forward again. His voice is a deep rumble right next to his ear as he leans over Steve’s shoulder, “Clint is gonna put on a show for us; you’re gonna be good and watch him, yeah?”

“Fuck, yes, I am.” The words tumble out of his mouth in a rush, and earn him chuckles from both men. He doesn’t have time to be embarrassed with his eagerness, not when Clint is standing a few feet away, casually stretching upward so that his shirt rides up to expose a strip of skin above his tattered jeans.    
  
There’s a riot of color across Clint’s hips, but Steve can’t quite make out the designs with the way Clint’s started moving. Nothing like his casual manner at the bar; he’s all sinuous grace as he drags his hands slowly along the lines of his own body, smiling small and coy at his eager audience. As Clint’s finally pulling his shirt slowly up and off, Bucky leans forward again and starts pressing his lips to the column of Steve’s neck, making his breath stutter.

Steve’s eyes flutter closed for a moment at the feeling of Bucky’s fingers pressing possessively into his hips, but a moment later Bucky’s teeth nip him - sharp and quick - followed by a murmur of, “Nu-uh, pretty boy; eyes open.”

The sight of Clint shirtless is definitely not something Steve would want to miss. Every inch of skin previously hidden under his shirt is covered in ink, a bold and colorful design sprawled across his torso. Steve can see an echo of the design on his own chest in the wings of a creature stretched across Clint’s ribs. The beauty of it makes him breathless. He only realizes he’s leaning forward by the shift in pressure of Bucky’s hands where they’re toying with the edge of his shirt, fingers dragging slowly upward, rucking his shirt up to expose him to Clint’s eager eyes.

Bucky takes a moment to pull the shirt up and off of him, takes advantage of the newly exposed skin with his teeth digging teasingly into Steve's shoulders. Keeping his eyes on Clint is somehow the easiest and hardest thing he’s ever had to do. Bucky’s lips and teeth are torturous, making him want to melt backward into the curtain of Bucky’s hair. But Clint is shimmying out of his jeans and Steve’s attention can’t waver from the design, it just keeps going down both of Clint’s legs. He gets lost enough looking at the dragon crawling down Clint’s inner thigh that it takes him a moment to realize his briefs are decorated in candy hearts. A little chuckle bubbles out of Steve’s chest when he reads the ‘Bite Me’ heart positioned right over the head of Clint’s cock where it strains against the ridiculous briefs.

The sound of Steve’s laughter seems to be some kind of signal, Clint starts stalking forward until he’s just out of reach. He sinks down to Steve's level agonizingly slowly, closes the last bit of distance between them, presses his lips gently to the corner of Steve's mouth. There's a little whimper that Steve would vehemently deny was from him if he had any grasp of his own faculties; he busies himself in the feeling of Clint's mouth against his own. Bucky's hands trail across both blondes, tilting Steve's jaw so Clint can kiss him more deeply, tugging at Steve's hair to make him gasp into Clint's mouth. 

Steve gives in to the kisses, loses himself in Clint's happy little noises enough that he barely registers Bucky moving away from him and up the bed. The way Clint's calloused fingers catch against his nipples has Steve happily ignoring the ache of his knees from kneeling in place. Clint undoes the button and zip on Steve's jeans and nudges them down his hips as far as they'll go in this position. Steve is just on the edge of overwhelmed again under Clint's clever hands when he hears Bucky's voice, an appreciative purr from where he's scooted up against the headboard. Clint draws back just enough so that Steve can turn to look, and his brain has another solid white out moment.

Bucky Barnes is sprawled, casual as you please, with his back propped against the plush headboard of the bed. There's less ink on him than Clint, and it's all in shades of black and grey, severe and angular where Clint's work is colorful and trailing. He's managed to strip down to his briefs sometime while Clint was busy kissing Steve stupid. A baffled part of Steve's brain registers that he matches Clint, the little candy heart on his underwear insisting 'Kiss Me'. 

"Come on up here, boys,” He crooks a finger at them with a grin, “Clint, sweetheart, lose the panties, hm?" Bucky drawls, his voice a deep rumble that's clearly used to being obeyed. 

Clint moves immediately, a hand out to Steve to pull him up alongside him, then to guide him easily into Bucky's lap. While Steve is happily settling himself in the cradle of Bucky's hips and rutting against him, Clint is flinging his briefs across the room with unerring precision into a laundry basket. The other two don't notice his shot at all, but he can't be upset when there's a needy muscled blonde wriggling in his husband's lap.

Bucky kisses like he's laying a claim, all teeth and greedy tongue in Steve's mouth, hands sliding down to knead into Steve's thighs and ass. Bucky's hands are like trails of fire wherever they drag and dig in, lighting Steve up from the inside. Bucky whispers gently in his ear to look back, so Steve gets to see Clint greedily watching them both, one hand casually stroking himself and clearly enjoying the view. Seeing him entirely bare drives Steve a little crazy; there's so much skin decorated with so much care and talent to look at, it’s overwhelming. 

Bucky offers a hand to Clint, guiding him closer, adjusts Steve in his lap so they can all share kisses for a heated moment. Steve’s definitely not used to being manhandled like this, but it seems like he’s figuring out all sorts of new things about what he likes tonight. There are enough wandering hands that Steve loses the thread of who is touching him where, just lets himself get lost in it. Clint drags his tongue along Steve's chest, focused on the half that's not bandaged, open mouthed kisses alternating with careful nibbles. 

Clint's teeth drag across his nipple sharply; Steve gasps and arches, trying to press himself into Clint's mouth and against Bucky's body all at once.

There's a feral grin on Bucky's silver-ringed lips and Steve can hear the shape of it when Bucky says, "Oh, you like that, don't you, sweetheart?" All Steve can do in response is whimper against the hard pressure of Clint's teeth as Bucky growls, "Harder, love, make him feel it."

Clint obeys, the pain sparking sharp and immediate through Steve's chest as his teeth dig in. Steve's whole body tries to move into the sensation, nearly shaking with want. It's only the other men's hands gripping him that keeps his body in place. Clint's deep chuckle vibrates through him, spiking his need. 

"What do you think, love? What should we do with him?" Bucky trails his hands along Steve's body as he asks, and Clint follows along with his tongue and teeth. Everywhere Bucky pinches, presses, drags, Clint nips, sucks, kisses. 

Steve can barely hear Clint's reply with the way it’s partially muffled against his own chest; he just makes out, "--his mouth, Buck?"

"Mm, yeah. Sure thing, darlin'." Bucky tilts Steve carefully up so he's definitely listening, "Stevie, sweetheart. I'd like if you suck my husband off while I fuck you. How's that sound?"

Steve whimpers, nods, and then pouts when he realizes that's not enough of an answer for these two overwhelming men that are in bed with him. 

Clint pulls away just enough to do a spot on impression of his husband, a deep grumble of "Consent is sexy!" followed by another roguish grin before he's leaning back in to flick his tongue across Steve's reddened nipple.

Steve's voice wavers, but he manages, "Yeah, Buck. Please? All of that?" 

Steve's answer sets off a little cascade of motion; Clint nearly diving for the nightstand where he fishes out lube and condoms, Bucky tucking his fingers into the waistband of Steve's boxers to tug them down. Before he can properly catalogue it all, Clint is spread out at the end of the bed, all wry smiles and grabby hands, and Bucky is gently urging him forward. Steve nearly falls into Clint's arms, dives greedily into kissing Clint's eager mouth.

Bucky's hands are nimble and seemingly everywhere on Steve's skin, doing his damnedest to distract from the way Clint is whimpering soft encouraging sounds into Steve's mouth. Bucky pressing down against Steve's hips drags his length against Clint's, and the sounds from the taller blonde are sinful enough to short circuit Steve's brain entirely. 

Steve pulls away reluctantly from Clint's greedy mouth, presses kisses down his freckled cheeks, drags his teeth along the tense column of his neck. He traces the pattern of Clint's tattoos with his tongue downward from where they start swirling near his collarbones until he finally reaches the sweet dip of muscle near his thigh. Then he's back to soft bites, huffing warm breath over Clint's shaft just to watch the tension of his body bowing his spine. Clint is a perfect picture of need and open desire, just barely coherent enough to hand Steve a condom that's quickly rolled on. Steve can feel himself losing the thread of things again, already overwhelmed with Clint and almost tipping past sensation as Bucky's hands drag up his thighs to dig nails possessively and greedily into his ass. 

Bucky's fingers get more demanding as they press inward; Steve whimpers a soft sound into the soft blonde curls in front of him. He gets with the program and wraps his lips around the head of Clint's cock, hoping he can make up with enthusiasm the skill he's going to lack being as overwhelmed as he feels. 

There's a feedback loop, Bucky's fingers stretching him, the throaty moans he can't stop as he's taking more of Clint in his mouth, and Clint desperately grasping at the short strands of his hair to try to pull him closer. The edge of pain in his scalp drives Steve to press needily back into Bucky's hands.

As much as Steve wants to beg for more to fill him, some absurd polite part of his mind reminds him not to talk with his mouth full, so the best he manages is a rumbling groan that might shape Bucky's name if a listener were generous. 

Steve just barely registers that Clint is actually saying something, enough to catch, "Bucky baby, please?" Then those nimble fingers slip out of him, replaced in a few moments by the blunt head of Bucky's cock pressing against him. Steve ends up just panting against Clint's sharp hipbone as he adjusts to Bucky slowly sliding into him. He breathes his needy whimpers into the thin skin there, until Clint's strong calloused fingers urge his mouth back into place so he can drag messy open mouthed kisses along Clint's shaft.

Bucky fills him with possessive, eager thrusts, adjusting his angle until he hears the unfettered cry escaping Steve's throat when he's right on target. Steve knows this is the messiest he's ever been with a cock in his mouth, but Clint sounds happy in the filthiest way, so he just keeps up as best he can. He's gasping little sounds against Clint's shaft with every thrust of Bucky's hips.

"Buck!" Clint gasps, one hand buried in Steve's hair urging him further down and the other reaching for his husband over Steve's shoulder. Bucky drops his bruising grip on Steve's hip to tangle his fingers with Clint's, and that seems to be the tipping point, Clint throbbing in Steve's mouth. Steve pulls off slowly, dragging it out until Clint is whimpering from sensitivity, then collapsing onto his tattoo covered abs. Bucky keeps snapping his hips, losing rhythm as he approaches his own orgasm, watching the way the other two men are happily pressed into one another.

Bucky's hand wraps around Steve's cock as he leans forward; it only takes a few tight strokes of his fist before Steve is crying out, clenching hard around him. Bucky follows soon after, his free hand digging hard into Steve's hip as he grinds himself deep to ride out the sensation. Bucky nearly collapses on top of them both, just managing to tip enough to the side that he sprawls out next to them instead. Steve hisses softly at the feeling of emptiness and gets a clumsy hand petting his hair in comfort. 

Clint shifts up after a few minutes of breath catching, carefully slips the condoms off of himself and Bucky. Steve watches as Clint tosses the condoms into the trash can, literally, from across the room. He’s got only a second to be horrified before they land perfectly and Clint’s shooting a big goofy grin at him, made all the more attractive by his sweat-darkened hair sticking up at all angles. Bucky is laughing like Steve’s face is the most hilarious thing he’s seen, he just manages to wheeze out, “Ohmygod, wish I’d gotten a picture of that.”

Clint collapses back onto bed, arm sprawled casually across Steve’s thighs, face smooshed into his side with just one icy blue eye peeking up at them. It’s endearing as all hell, and Steve’s really glad it doesn’t seem like they’re going to kick him out during the afterglow. He tentatively reaches down to pet his fingers through Clint's hair, and he responds with a noise that's almost a purr. 

Bucky watches them both for a moment, all fondness and smiles, before he says, "C'mon Stevie, we gotta get your tattoo cleaned off."

Steve glances down to see they've made a bit of a mess of the wrapping, untangles Clint's clinging form, and follows after Bucky to a little blue-tiled bathroom. Bucky’s got a professional edge to him as he wipes the tattoo down, but his hands are all familiar and sweet when he’s wrapping it back up, lingering on his chest like he can’t get enough. It’s kind of weird; there’s something more reserved about the brunette now, a pink dusting on his cheeks goes along with a softer voice. It’s just odd enough that it unsettles Steve.    
  
“Bucky? I’m not the best at reading people but you guys are… a lot different than I’d expect from a uh, from whatever this is.” Steve finished lamely as he gestures to encompass the tangle of clothes scattered across the floor of the bedroom and their general nakedness like that’ll explain what he’s trying to say.

Bucky snorts and rolls his eyes, huffs out, “Hey, I’m not an asshole. Who wouldn’t wanna be sweet on you if they’ve got the chance, hm?”

Clint’s voice, muffled by the pillow he’s wrapped himself around, is just audible, “Let him be a sap, he’s gonna be like this every time.”

"E…  _ every _ time?" Steve cringes inwardly at the hopefulness in his tone, smooth and casual clearly not in his wheelhouse right now.

"If you wanted to hang out with us in the future, we'd like that. No like… pressure on any of this," Bucky repeats Steve's earlier gesture, "that's on the table, too, but we can talk about it as it comes up, yeah?"

"Yeah, alright." Steve replies as he stops to pick up his discarded boxers from the floor, then wanders back into the bed where Clint is waiting, doing a silly grabby-hands motion toward him. He settles in and Bucky follows after a moment later, so Steve is bracketed by their bodies. 

There's silence for a while, soft caresses casually exchanged as they all sink deeper into comfort. A yawn sneaks up on Steve, and he fumbles for something to say to cover it, vaguely worried still he might not be allowed to sleep here between the two of them.

"How'd you two meet?" Steve asks as casually as he can manage, carding his fingers lazily through Bucky's hair where its sprawled across his chest. 

Clint perks up, brandishes a middle finger proudly. There's an arrow tattoo on it, the only one on his body that's visible with clothes on. It's lacking the crispness of the designs crawling along his body, faded some with age. "Buck did my first tattoo," his grin goes crooked with fondness, "then I didn't see him for like three years ‘cause we were both insecure idiots with crushes and no communication skills."

Bucky snorts at that but doesn't interrupt, just resettles himself so he can reach Clint's hand to intertwine their fingers. There's a matching, messier arrow on Bucky's finger where they meet. 

"Heard he became a full-blown tattooist and stopped by his shop, he remembered me." There's a faint flush to Clint's cheeks when he glances over at Bucky, "Decade ago, n' I can still remember the way you looked at me."

"Mmf, all that freckled skin to tattoo, how could I be blamed?" Bucky retorts, the words devolving into laughter at Clint's faked outrage and Steve's clear amusement.

"You're my favorite and the worst; I love you. Anyway, kept showing up and watching him draw, being charming." There's a snort from Bucky at that but Clint continues, "Hey, I'm very charming. Eventually, he caved and let me take him to dinner. We never made it to dinner, ended up back at his shop and tattooing his finger on a dare, then making out in the office. Don't let him tell you I ain't a romantic."

Steve watches the way the two look at each other from either side of him, their hands clasped over his chest. He feels a little overwhelmed at the depth of their feelings, right there in front of him. Knowing they're letting him see it like this fills him with warmth. 

After a moment Bucky leans over to kiss Clint gently, a kiss they've shared countless times, and it leaves Clint with a dopey lovesick grin when he moves away, "Love you too, лучник."

He presses a different kiss to Steve's lips, still sweet in its gentleness. Then he settles himself back into Steve's side and quietly huffs his good nights. Clint flicks off the last lamp and sprawls his way back into place. 

Steve can't really remember the last time he's been as cozy; sleep finds him easily and drags him under to the sound of the other men breathing softly around him.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky calls Clint лучник, which google translate says means Archer. :3


End file.
